A Funny Little Four Lettered Word
by Aby'n'Marc
Summary: Spencer Antoinette Higgens runs away from her soontobe fiance and meets a certain Brooklyn Newsie on the way. Will he give her a friend or a new enemy?
1. Portrayal of a Predator

Disclaimer-I do not own the movie Newsie. I never will. A/C-I know, I know...the ideas keep coming out!  
  
There is a funny four letter word in my vocabulary. It's Life. Life is something every newsie must deal with, brutally. They are thrown into a world of poverty and rejection. A cruel cold place in which you are rarely happy, and your best friends would watch your throat cut before they gave money to the mugger. I know because it all happened to me. I was a little rich girl, in my cousin's words. I lived in the city and Pulitzer's youngest nephew was at my feet, begging for me to let him stand up. But I hated it. Oh how I hated it!  
My name is Spencer Antoinette Higgens. If you're wandering, my cousin is Anthony 'Racetrack' Higgens. My parents threw him out when he told them he would rather be in the company of his parents' rotting corpses than their's. I was left to fend for myself in the lion's den. My father was a wealthy mine owner in Pennsylvania and he ran the mines from New York City. My mother came from a family of Lords and Ladies that had immigrated from England. I had one sister who was engaged to a newsie, and Tony.  
"Spencer!" My mother's bird-like voice interrupted my thoughts. I jumped. It wasn't the first time she had ever done that.  
"Yes mother?" I walked from my room to the twisting stairwell to look at her, making sure that my crushed velvet emerald green dress was smooth.  
She ran up to greet me. "Well, Jacob Pulitzer is here to see you. I thought you might want to know." I didn't really have any wish to see Fishy Pulitzer. We called him Fishy because his eyes were pale along with his skin and hair. He looked like paste.  
"Of course mother! Tell the sweet man I'll be down in five minutes. I have to braid my hair."  
She nodded and trotted back down the stairs. Her most precious dream was to see me walk down the aisle with Fishy Pulitzer. I would die first. He was a nice boy, or so I thought, but he looked like a fat tuna. I  
I braided my long black hair with an olive green ribbon and then made my way to the parlor. My mother was nowhere to be found but that wasn't unusual. She always disappeared when Fishy was there. "Hello Jacob," I said eloquently as I sat down beside him.  
"Why hello Spencer, my girl. How are you?"  
"Quite well, thank you. And how have you been dear Jacob?"  
"I've been just lovely." He leaned closer to me...closer than I would have liked but I let it slide.  
"That is excellent. Would like something to drink?"  
"Just you." He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me into the side of the couch, smothering my lips with his mouth. I struggled.  
"_Jacob Pulitzer_! This is entirely improper!" I tried to wriggle free but couldn't. His hands were wandering up my skirt and chiffon. I felt tears sting my cheeks. "Jacob, please let me go?"  
My mother stood in the parlor door, smiling. "It's alright Spencer. Let him have fun."  
I screamed as I felt his hands on my body in places where they shouldn't have been. "JACOB! NO!" I slapped him hard and sent him off the couch. Then I stood up. "How could you?!" I shouted at my mother. "I can't take it anymore! You were going to let him rape me!"  
"But you will be marrying him!"  
"Fuck I will!" I shrieked. Then I tore out the door into the streets of New York. Like I said, I'm a snobby little rich girl and I had _no idea _where I was going. I knew it was night and I was in New York. I walked in my high heels for quite some time before I sat down on a park bench in front of some extremely squalid buildings. I was shaking with sobs and I was freezing. It was the middle of November in New York City. If I didn't get murdered that night, I'd freeze by morning.  
Sometime later, a boy walked past with a cigarette dangling between his lips and a cabby hat pulled low over his eyes. He carried something in his hand and another something sticking out of the waistband of his pants. He looked at me for a moment before he sat down. I continued crying, not feeling like talking to someone I didn't know and being scared that he would kidnap me. This boy could obviously do more to me than Jacob Pulitzer. He had a lithe manner to him, like a panther waiting to strike at me.  
"Are you sitting there for a reason, Sir?" I finally snapped.  
He looked up quickly, his eyes reflecting the light and for a moment he looked like a cat. When he tilted his head slightly I could see it was anger and amusement in sky blue eyes. "Last time I checked dis was me territory. I can do what I want."  
"I do not believe anyone owns the United States, Sir. This is not your 'territory.' Now are you here for a reason?"  
He pulled the object out of his waistband and smirked at me. A slingshot! I dropped to my knees and begged. "Oh please don't kill me! I'll do whatever you want!"  
  
He dropped the slingshot immediately. "I ain't gonna kill ya!" He seemed shocked that I would even say that. "Why ya so jumpy?"  
"I had a very disgusting incident with Jacob Pulitzer."  
The boy's eyes flashed again. "If dere's one thing I won't do it's treat a woman like she's a temple dat I can use whenevah I want. Ya don't like him do ya?"  
"I hate him."  
"What did he do?"  
"He was trying to rape me while my mother watched and she was letting him!"  
He looked down. "Dat's just wrong."  
"Yes. And look at me, telling you all my secrets. What's your name?"  
He smiled. "What's your's?"  
"Spencer Antoinette Higgens."  
"Higgens?! As in Racetrack?"  
  
I nodded. "He's my cousin."  
"Well, in dat case. I'm Spot Conlon. Ya cousin is me best friend...if ya can say I have friends."  
"Why were you out so late, Mr. Conlon?"  
"Spot's awright. Mr. Makes me sound old. I was...doin things." He picked up the gold-capped cane that had been the object he was carrying and wiped the gold end on his shirt. It left a dark claret streak on his shirt. Blood!  
I jumped away from him. "What the hell is that?"  
  
He looked down at the cane and then up at my gray eyes. "It's a weapon...why?"  
"I don't mean that, I mean what the hell was on it? Was that blood?!"  
  
"Yeah. Had me a run in with Oscar Delancey an' he knows ya don't touch a Conlon's nerves."  
  
I stared. "I just need a place to stay if you can do that, _Sir_."  
"Spot is awright." He said it again and picked up the slingshot and cane. Then he aimed a marble right above my head. I shrieked but then changed my mind.  
"I bet you couldn't hit shit with that!" I snapped. He desereved it after scaring me like that!  
His eyes flashed fire and ice. He was pissed. "I bet ya gonna home or freeze ta death without me help!" Then he took aim and fired at a knot on a tree. It hit dead on.  
"Well, then I'm sorry, Sir. I must be going now."  
"Back ta Jake Pulitzer? Why don't ya stay wit me an' I can take ya ta Race in da mornin'?"  
I stopped and smiled. "Would you do that for me?"  
"Anything for a lady dat don't want mistreated. Ya get nothing but da best from Spot Conlon."  
"Ah. A true Prince Charming are we?"  
He froze. "I ain't no one's knight in shinin' armor goily. Sorry."  
Something had obviously touched a nerve because he had stopped being so playful with me. He grabbed my arm and led me back to Brooklyn.  
In order to understand this, you have to know Spot. He is an enigma. A category of his own. He's possessive, cruel, egotistical, and sometimes ruthless. But he is also playful, fun, hilarious, and adorable. He is the best friend in the world but also the worst enemy. He's a set of good and evil all balled in one. It's what happens when authors go crazy and turn their heroes into villains but Spot was different. He was powerful. You were with him or against him. There was no neutral ground. That's why we clicked like we did. I was neutral ground, trying to get out...and he was an orphan trying to escape life and get to neutral ground. If Spot can't be neutral, no one else can...but he let me for some reason...  
  
A/C-How'd you like it? Spot is so...tempermental. 


	2. Crashing strike

Disclaimer-I think you all understand that I don't own this movie...so on with the writing! A/N-Work sucks.  
  
Spot woke me up the next morning with a rather rough shake. I sat up quickly and glanced at him. I had forgotten where I was. "Spot? What...nevermind."  
He stared at me with big blue eyes. It was something I had failed to notice. He had gorgeous eyes. "Get up. We gotta get ta Manhattan an' find Racetrack."  
I rolled out of bed and realized I was no longer in my dress. "Spot...where is my dress?"  
He laughed. "Ya changed it last night kid."  
"Where did I get these?" I looked at the pants and dark blue shirt I was wearing.  
"They're mine. C'mon let's go." He grabbed my arm and dragged me down the steps to the door. There were three boys sitting at the bottom of the steps. One had black hair and from what I could tell, he was small but respected and very strong. Another one had blonde hair. He sat with his elbow on his knee and his cheek resting in that hand. He looked exhausted. The last one had chocolate brown hair and appeared to be happy, content, as if he had everything in the world. They all stood up when Spot entered the room.  
"Heya Conlon," One said. He was the small boy with black hair. When he stood, I could tell he was as old as I was. He had blue eyes.  
Spot smirked. "Who ya talkin' to? Me or yaself?"  
"You. Who's da lady?"  
"Oh! Ace dis is Spencer. Spencer dis is me bruddah Ace." He then pointed to the boy with blonde hair. "Dat's Crash an' da oddah one is Skipper." Skipper smiled and Crash nodded his head before leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. Spot glanced at Crash, then Ace. Ace shrugged. "Hey Crash. Ya awright?"  
Crash jerked his eyes open and smirked. "I'se just got home Conlon. Spent da night wit Soda Pop."  
Spot smiled. "Yeah? Bout time. Ya still gotta sell though Crash. Next time bring her here."  
Skipper's smile grew wider. "Hey Spot...ya heah bout Jack yet?"  
"No...youse me boidie! Do tell, what's Jacky-boy done now?"  
Ace rolled his eyes. "He started a strike against Joe Pulitzer dis mornin'. Apparently Joey decided ta jack up da prices by ten cents a' hundred. An ya know if he does it, Hearst'll do it. Den we'se screwed."  
Spot's playful demeanor faded quickly. "Shit. 'Spectin Jack'll be up heah taday den?"  
Ace nodded. "If ya want me ta stay heah I can. I'll take care of him..."  
"No. I don't want ta start a borough war wit Manhattan. Dat's just stupid. I'll stay. If Jack comes I can send Spencer back wit him."  
Crash looked up. "Why ya sendin' her dere? Ya know damn well it's safer heah."  
Spot's eyes flashed. "I know an' I also know ya bettah not talk ta me like dat. I'll soak ya for it next time. Spencer is Racetrack's cousin."  
Ace laughed. "Ya sure? She ain't placed a bet on nothin' yet."  
I crossed my arms. "Just because I don't gamble doesn't mean I'm not his relation, Ace!"  
"Whoa you'se a temper ain't ya?"  
I rolled my eyes. "You are immature."  
Ace grabbed me by the shoulders and had me against a wall in seconds. "Really? Ya wanna see how mature I am?"  
I struggled against him until Spot pulled him off me. "Luke!" He snapped. "Ya don't hit goils!"  
"Luke? Who's Luke?"  
Ace looked at me. "I am. Maybe since my bruddah so lovingly told ya me real name I should tell ya his?"  
Spot shrugged. "I don't care if ya do or don't."  
I smiled. "Maybe."  
"Jeremy Ian Conlon."  
Spot smirked and grabbed my arm. "Dat's right. C'mon Spencer. We gotta get ta do docks before Jacky-boy does."  
He pulled me out the door and down the street to a dingy boat dock that was covered in newsies. They all moved away from him. I had noticed for some reason, they feared him like the plague. "Spot? Why are they all so scared of you?"  
  
"Because I have a bad ass reputation."  
"How so? You've been nothing but kind to me."  
"Ya don't remember da blood on me cane den?"  
I remembered now. "Yes...but that boy taunted you on."  
"I soak me own boys for bein' wrong Spence. I ain't no sweetheart."  
He climbed onto a large podium like structure and I sat under it. A fear of heights made me turn down his offer of climbing up. We spoke for awhile and then he became serious as he gazed down the dock. There were three boys approaching, one wearing a cowboy hat. "So Spot ya moved up in da woild? Got a rivah view an everything."  
Spot jumped down and they spit shook. I pretty much lost track of the conversation for awhile but I knew my name wasn't mentioned. The boys left, sullen.  
Spot sat in silence for a long time, brooding and obviously livid. He looked up and saw me. "Shit! I didn't send ya back! Dammit. C'mon we gotta get ta Manhattan before dark!" He seized my arm and dragged me down the dock toward my cousin's home.  
  
A/C-I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter and I hope you like this one just as much. I'm kind of sick right now so if it sucks that's probably why. 


	3. Maybe

Disclaimer-I do not own the movie Newsies. A/N-I hate camp. I hate camp. I HATE CAMP!!!! I will never be a camp counselor again. Ever!!!  
  
Being dragged down the streets of New York by the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies is no trip to the candy shop. He has a vice grip not to mention he was angry and muttering to himself in something that sounded very much like German. "Spot? Are you okay?"  
  
"Just be quiet. We ain't in a very great place for Brooklyn boys right now."  
"Where are we?"  
"Bronx."  
I shivered. I had heard Tony talk about the Bronx before. They really didn't like anyone but Harlem it seemed.  
"Well, well, well. If it ain't Spot Conlon and his newest chicka. What are ya doin in Bronx?" The speaker was a Hispanic looking boy with dark hair and eyes. He was a lot bigger than Spot too.  
"Goin ta Manhattan Bullet. Dat's all."  
"Who's da goil?"  
"Dis is..." He stopped. 'Spencer,' I thought. 'My name is Spencer.' He smirked. "Snapper. She's Race's cousin."  
Bullet grabbed Spot by the collar and threw him into a wall. Spot caught my eyes and shouted. "Run!"  
I starred. I couldn't leave him there by himself. It wasn't right. "Snapper run!" I looked down the street. I had no idea where I was but I seemed to not have a choice. That's life. That stupid word again! I took off down through the crowd as fast as I could. Running the way we had come. If I had to leave him there, the least I could do was tell his boys. Crash was the first person I saw. He was sleeping against a light pole. "Crash! Wake up you lazy ass!" I shook his shoulders roughly. He tilted his hat up and frowned.  
"What da hell do ya want?"  
"Spot! Bronx...Bullet...I don't know!"  
"Bullet? Bullet! Where's Bullet?"  
"He has SPOT!"  
Crash stood up immediately. "Go down dis street past two intersections. Get ta da thoid one an' Ace'll be sellin dere. Tell him. I'll round up da oddah boys."  
I nodded and began my run again. Ace was talking to another boy, one with an eye patch. "Ace! Spot is in the Bronx and Bullet has him!"  
Ace looked quizzically at me for a moment, then he groaned. "Oh no! Blink take her back ta Manhattan an' give her ta Racetrack. I gotta go. We might have a borough war on our hands now."  
The boy, Blink apparently, grabbed my hand. "C'mon." He walked leisurely and patiently. Something that was pissing me off. I wanted to get back to Spot! But I didn't complain. There was obviously nothing I could do to help him now so I let Blink drag me into a cafe called Tibby's. Tony sat in a corner, cigar dangling out of his mouth and a deck of cards in his left hand. He smirked as he saw me approach him. "Heya Spence."  
"Hello Anthony..." I said shyly. The boys around him starred me down like hounds.  
He caught my arm gently and led me outside. Then he asked smoothly, "What are ya doin heah Spencer?"  
I looked at my feet. This was a story I didn't want to retell, but I did. When I had finished, he stared at me. "Are ya serious?"  
"Dead serious Anthony."  
"Call me Race. What are ya doin wit Spot Conlon's clothes?"  
"He picked me up so I wouldn't freeze to death and to show me where you were."  
He chewed the end of the cigar. "Ya didn't sleep wit him did ya?"  
"NO! Why would I do that? He was nothing but nice to me! Besides, its really none of your business."  
He smirked. "Well, you was lookin for me so I'm takin' it ya wanna stay heah?"  
"Maybe I want to stay in Brooklyn?"  
"Maybe ya do. Why do I care?"  
"You're my cousin. You've always cared."  
"Exactly why ya ain't stayin wit Conlon. He's me best friend an' I know him bettah den most guys do. He ain't meant ta be around high class ladies like yaself."  
"I'd rather be a whore than the social status I was."  
"You'll regret sayin' dat sometime."  
"No I won't."  
A voice behind me cut in, "Yeah ya will. We found him." It was Ace.  
"Ace! Is he okay? Where is he?"  
"He's fine. Da boys from Bronx ain't lookin to good though. He soaked Bullet real bad."  
"WHERE IS HE?"  
"Inside Tibby's wit Kelly."  
"Kelly?"  
"Jack Kelly!" Ace grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. "Heya Spot! Ya guardian angel wants ta see ya."  
Spot smirked. "Me? A guardian angel? Try a guardian hell spawn. Heya Snapper. How's it rollin'?"  
I shrugged. "You're alright then?"  
"Course I am. Why wouldn't I be?  
"That boy was twice your size Spot!"  
  
"Most are. Don't seem ta stop me."  
He was acting different. A lot different. I didn't understand it. "Fine," I snapped and sat down in the corner. We were there for a good four hours after that. It gave the boys sufficient time to get drunk. Spot grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door. I was getting fed up with being dragged. "Let go!" I jerked away. "What is wrong with you? You treated me like a dog in there!"  
His speech was slurred when he spoke, "Who cares. Ya just a goil."  
"Just a girl?! You said you would never treat a girl like she was less than you!"  
"I lied. Now come heah Spencer!" He reached for me and pulled me into a kiss. I let him go at first but then pulled away.  
"You're drunk and I don't even know you! You could have a girlfriend or kids for all I know!"  
"Kids? Nah." He pulled me toward him again but I wrenched my arm out of his grasp and ran back to where Race was standing. I became the first girl to walk away from Jeremy Conlon. 


	4. Jem

Disclaimer-I don't own the newsies or any of that Disney stuff. My disclaimer-I do own Spencer, Ace, Crash, Soda Pop, and any other character of mine that has shown up. Please, if you want to use them, ask. I will probably let you. In fact, I'd be honored that you liked them so much but you still have to ask. A/N-I temporarily quit my job because I'm 14 years old and was working 14 hour days. Not legal at all, so for the time being I'll try to write as much as possible.  
  
I crossed my arms and kept my eyes on the ground as Race continued to speak. Why did I want to stay here? He obviously didn't want me. His attention switched to my own face. "Spence? What's wrong?"  
I frowned. "Nothing. Not that you would care."  
He growled. "Fine. I won't ask no more."  
"You've changed to much Racetrack. It's not fair! I don't know what I'm doing or where I am!"  
He grabbed my shoulders and led me off about ten yards. "I changed? Youse da classy goil runnin around wit Spot Conlon!"  
"I didn't run around with him like that! I needed help and he gave it. I know its rare for him to care like that but he did! Now, despite the fact that he's drunk, I'm going back with him!"  
I turned on my heel and ran to Ace. "Ace? Can I come stay with you guys? I don't want to be here and since Spot is in no condition to make the decision...?"  
  
Ace smirked. "He's always been da heavy drinker. Yeah, ya can stay but tomorrow when Spot get's da hangovah...expect da woist."  
"I promise. I would have anyway."  
Ace took her arm. "I'll take ya home. I can't handle alcohol an' I don't trust dem."  
She smiled. "Thanks."  
He walked down the street and she followed. It was quiet...to quiet for Spencer. "Ace? How did you and Spot become newsies?"  
He glanced toward me and shook his head. "I usually don't tell no one dis so just...don't say anything 'bout it latah. Awright?"  
I nodded but thought. How bad could it possibly be? Not bad enough to swear the two brothers into silence. Or was it?  
Ace took a deep breath. "Originally dere was six of us. Michael, Mercy, Jeremy, me, Rebecca, and Aaron. Our Mother got put in da hospital aftah Jeremy an' Mercy were born. She wasn't supposed ta have any oddah kids. She got a 'lil bettah an' went home. About three months latah, she was pregnant with me. She got bettah again but didn't end up pregnant until I was 9. Then she had Rebecca and Aaron. Through da whole thing we was at home wit dad. He blamed my muddah's illness on us and beat up on us a lot. Michael joined up wit da army an' left home, Mercy took ta da streets an' I'm still lookin' for her. Jeremy and I ended up wit da newsies but Rebecca and Aaron were in an orphanage. Dey were adopted last year. As far as I know my muddah is still in da hospital."  
"How bad did he beat up on you?"  
"Bad enough ta scar Jem's back."  
My eyes widened. "What did he hit you with?!"  
"Me? His fists. Jem...anything around him includin his fists."  
My stomach turned. "That's why Spot is so cold. I'm sorry Ace."  
He shrugged and looked up. We had reached the Brooklyn lodging house. I opened the door but Ace grabbed my arm. "Don't tell him I told ya..."  
"I won't..." With that statement I ran up the steps to the room I had stayed in the night before. I locked the door behind me. With Spot as drunk as he was, I didn't trust him.  
  
Skipper woke me up the next morning. "C'mon. We have ta sell."  
I rolled off the bed, groaning, and got dressed. Then I stumbled down the steps, right into Spot. I jumped backwards. "Ummm..."  
"Hey Snapper. Look...uhh...last night. I don't know what I was thinkin'. An' I really didn't mean ta do it."  
I smirked. "Are you trying to apologize Jeremy Conlon?"  
He frowned and pushed past me. "Nevah."  
I crossed my arms. "Fine. Just be the egotistical, spoiled brat that you are!"  
Spot's fists clenched. He couldn't soak a girl...at least not in front of the boys. It would muck up his reputation. "Take dat back."  
"Never."  
"I shoulda sent ya back ta damn Jake Pulitzer! Let him deal wit a high class bitch like you!"  
Ace came up behind me. "Jem, ya sound like Patrick."  
Spot's eyes flashed and he was immediately down the stairs holding Ace against the wall. "I'll nevah sound like him! I'm not like him!"  
Ace shoved him away. "Ya getting damn close Jeremy!"  
Spot growled and stormed out the door. Ace grabbed my shoulder. "You okay?"  
"Yes...I'm fine. Who's Patrick?"  
"My dad."  
"Wow you must have really pissed him off."  
"I did. He'll get ovah it. Oh well." 


	5. After Curfew

Disclaimer-I don't own any newsies in this story. If you want to use any of my characters, ask. I'll probably say yes.  
  
Spot didn't talk to Ace for days after that exchange. He gave him dark looks and he wouldn't come near me either. I could see why people ran from Spot now. He was terrifying. He often took off for days without notice and left Ace or Skipper in charge. It was during one of those times that Star showed up. She had long blonde hair, clinging to her body in the rain and dark blue eyes that looked like little stars. Ace told me Spot had dated Star awhile back and kicked her out. Now she needed help and he wasn't going to turn her out in the storm.  
She sat down next to me and when she spoke it was with an English accent that surprised me. "Hello. I'm Star. Ace told me Spot took a fancy to you?"  
"Well...I don't know..."  
"In that case, if he ever does, stay away from him. He's certainly not worth your time."  
I frowned. He had taken me in, I owed him. "I owe Spot my life. And my future."  
"It doesn't matter. He's a 'skirt chaser' as you Americans coined it."  
I stood up. "I won't listen to the chatter of some English bitch!"  
Ace, Crash, and Skipper all came toward me. I continued on the rant. "I won't listen to someone talk about my friend like that! You have absolutely no right to come in here and bad mouth the leader! He kicked you out for a reason and you come back seeking help. What do they do? They let you in! Why? I have no idea but you quite obviously don't know your place in life! You are below him and Ace and Crash and Skipper! Go back to the hell hole you came from!"  
Ace stared. "Whoa..."  
Star stood up too. "You, my naïve and lost little friend, don't know who you are getting involved with. You obviously come from high society and have no idea what part of New York you are in! You are defending a monster! You're probably from Greenwich village or something while I came from White Chapel, London! Stay away from Jem! You don't know what you're doing or who you are going after! He can't love anymore rich girl! He never will again!"  
Ace pushed her back into her seat. "Listen up, Star. I didn't have ta let ya in but I did. An' I'm gonna get me ass kicked for it but I'll take it. Ya know why? Because I always liked ya. I thought Jem shoulda stayed wit ya! I don't want ya bad talkin' me family! I don't!"  
Star pouted. "You like me?"  
Crash doubled over in laughter. Ace froze. "Not like dat...I mean...I like ya as a friend...not a love interest...I..."  
Star giggled. "That's what I meant, silly!"  
Ace turned bright red and mumbled while fidgeting. I smiled. "You DO like her! Oh Luke you're a horrible liar!"  
Ace frowned. "I don't! Stop it!"  
Star stood up and put an arm over his shoulders. "Well, we'll have to see how this works out, won't we?" She put a kiss on his cheek and then walked upstairs. Ace was as red as the suspenders his brother wore.  
  
Spot came home later that night and I was still sitting up downstairs. What Star had said and how I replied had put thoughts about him into my head. I had never thought about being attracted to Spot...he was a friend. That's all he could ever be and all I could allow him to ever be. "Spot? That you?"  
He sat down next to me. "Yeah...why ya still up?"  
"I was thinking..."  
"About what? Me?" If only he knew.  
"About everything. I mean, there is a girl here..."  
"Who? What's her name?"  
I shrugged... "Star..."  
"Star?! Star is back?! Fuck! Who let her in?"  
"Ace did...look Spot, she said something..."  
"She says a lot 'a things. She's a bitch."  
"She said you had me here because you took interest in me."  
"I didn't...I just didn't want ya ta freeze or get raped by Jake Pulitzer. I mean, I know I said, dat night I was drunk, dat I had lied ta ya...but I didn't. I really do think all dat stuff."  
"Well, that's good. She said you were no good and I got pissed. I went off on her and yelled. I told her she had no right to..."  
Spot leaned forward and kissed me lightly. "Thanks. For defendin' me when I wasn't heah. But ain't comin' aftah ya like dat. I promise."  
I smiled half-heartedly because in truth...I think I wanted him to come after me. He stood up to leave. "Jeremy, wait!"  
He stopped. "Yeah?"  
"If you ever did...I wouldn't get mad at you..."  
He smiled and sat back down. "Is dat an offer?"  
"An offer?" I was scared now. "I'm not offering sex! I'm not!"  
"I didn't mean dat!" He jumped backward awkwardly. "I meant is dat an offer for me ta...pursue ya...as more of a friend?"  
I shrugged and looked down at my lap. He tilted my face up and in his eyes was a question. "Is it?" I still couldn't find my voice to speak. He kissed me again. "Spencer?"  
I nodded quickly. "Yes...I suppose it is..."  
"Den can I kiss ya again?"  
I smiled and shrugged. "Do you want to?"  
He responded in another kiss. "I gotta go ta bed now, Spence. I want ya to go upstairs ta da goils' bunkroom and get some sleep. We gotta sell tomorrow..."  
  
A/N-Duck, Ace will get his girl. I promise. Bye bye. Hope you like it. 


End file.
